Hidden Saint
by AquarianDegel
Summary: Anya, a girl living in northern Russia, finds an injured man in the snow. To her surprise, the man is clothed in golden armor. When more armored fighters arrive, flinging light and fire from their hands, she knows that her life is about to change.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Encounter**

When Anya awoke in the morning, she immediately knew that something was wrong. She didn't know how she knew—her grandmother stubbornly maintained that the girl carried latent psychic ability—but somehow, she knew. Throwing on some leg warmers, a scarf, and gloves, she went outside to take a walk through the park as she normally did each morning. It was good exercise, she told herself, and gave her time to think. There weren't many parks in Russia, but of the ones she'd seen—this one was the prettiest. It was the end of winter, and snow had fallen the night before, coating everything in a glittering layer of ice. If she hadn't been paying attention, she would have missed the other glittering object that didn't belong—it was golden, whatever it was. Something tickled at the back of her imagination, and Anya curiously, cautiously went to check out whatever the object was buried in the snow. _What is this? Why is it here? I didn't see it yesterday when I walked._

Carefully, she tugged on the thing—it was metallic and gracefully curved—but it wouldn't move. She'd have to clear the snow out of the way. It was a laborious task, but she quickly persevered, instincts screaming. Astonished, she heard a groan coming from under the light layer of snow covering the item: it was a turquoise-haired man armored entirely in gold, and he was definitely bloodied and beaten. Frantically Anya cleared off more of the snow, and with a cough the man opened startlingly blue eyes and stared at her with an unfocused gaze. "Who…are you?" His eyes suddenly widened, his gaze sharpening. "Your cosmos is like mine…_who are you?_"

"I'm Anya. I live nearby." Her fingers traced the armor's intricate moulding, and she cocked her head to the side, thinking a moment. "Who are you? I've never seen anyone like you before, and you speak with a strange accent. Are you…some kind of soldier?" _What is he doing here? What happened? I've got to help him. I should take him to Grandmama; she'll know what to do._

Camus nodded weakly, coughing a little. "You must…run…from here. Rhadamanthys—" He pointed weakly to the figure approaching several hundred yards behind her and passed out.

"I am here to take you back to Lord Hades, Aquarius Camus. Athena had no right to bring you or any of the other Saints back to life and take you away from the Underworld!" the Spectre snarled, glowing with a strange purple light. What…he looked like he was going to attack!

Anya's hand was still touching the armor when it began to glow with a pulsing golden light, and the Saint's body sagged a little further into the snow as the Aquarius armor detached itself from him—and miraculously attached itself to the girl. All of a sudden, Anya felt more powerful, like she could do anything. An image formed itself into her mind, of focusing her energy on an icy Siberian wind and directing it towards her enemy; she felt her right hand moving involuntarily…. "Diamond Dust!" She flung her hand out towards the scary approaching figure, who was now merely dozens of feet away, and was amazed to see a beautiful stream of glittering ice and wind flying from her hand to strike the other. Unfortunately, the larger man didn't seem terribly affected by it. A voice calmly spoke words into her mind.

_Raise thy hands, child, and clasp them together. Build all thy strength and focus, and I will lend thee my power._ An image of a beautiful woman—or was it a man?—formed in her mind, bearing a great vessel filled with light. His/her hair streamed out behind her, and reminded her a great deal of the golden-armored man in a way. _Now, child—call my name—_

"Aurora…EXECUTION!" She lowered her arms at the same time the woman/man tipped the vase, and out streamed all the colors of the aurora borealis from her clasped hands, striking the Spectre and freezing him in place. Anya knew it would not last long and began to despair as her energy waned. She wasn't meant to be a warrior! This was all too strange for her to comprehend, and she was starting to wonder if she was still sleeping in bed and dreaming. It was as if the golden armor were controlling her!

Her senses prickled, and she whirled to see a lavender-haired man in similar golden armor walking towards them. "Stardust Revolution!" he chanted, holding his arms out to his sides, and bursts of light flew from his hands to strike the black-armored man. Anya's eyes opened wide; what in heaven's name was going on? Who were these men who could fling light and fire from their hands, armored in gold and oddly colored hair?

The man knelt by her side, holding a pair of fingers to Camus' neck to check his pulse. His armor had a large pair of curved horns adorning his neck and a full helm; the design was slightly different from that of the turquoise-haired man. "Rhadamanthys will not be held long, even by such a powerful attack." Indeed, the ominous figure was already rising from the snow. "Hurry! Pick him up. I will get us to safety. Crystal Wall!" the warrior cried out, and an iridescent shimmering curtain appeared in front of them just in time to block a blast of light from the black figure.

"Greatest Caution!"

Gingerly, Anya knelt by Camus' side—she didn't think she could lift the man, he was bigger than she was—and yet, miraculously, she managed to pick him up and stand. The lavender-haired man placed a hand upon her arm and everything went black.

When Anya opened her eyes again, they were standing on a lush green hill overlooking some sort of ancient white stone structures. _This is all a dream; it has to be a dream…why am I not waking up? Where has this stranger taken me? What about Grandmama? I must go to her!_

"Please, place him on the ground," the warrior asked gently as a purple haired woman came running up. "I know this must be a lot to take in for you, child, but I haven't the time to explain. I trusted you because the Aquarius Cloth trusted you enough to arm you." The golden armored man knelt before the woman, who carried a black staff tipped with a sort of golden bird looking ornament. "Athena," he murmured, cape swirling gracefully around him. "I felt Camus' cosmos burning out and found him in battle with Rhadamanthys, one of the three Judges. Unfortunately, I did not arrive soon enough." The woman nodded, placed her staff on the ground, and held her hands a slight distance above the wounded man's chest. Immediately a massive golden light surrounded her, and the turquoise-haired man groaned, features clenched in pain.

"SCARLET NEEDLE!" came a cry, and Anya didn't even have time to react before the 14 blows took her in the front and threw her down the hillside, punching holes both in the Aquarius armor and her body.

"MILO! STOP!" Athena's command halted the Scorpio Saint in his tracks as the stinger on his forefinger glowed a menacing crimson, prepared to give the final Antares blow. "Milo, this girl saved Camus' life!"

Milo suddenly looked horrified, and the stinger disappeared in a flash of brilliant red light. His violet eyes were filled with remorse. "I am sorry for being so impetuous, Athena; I thought she had killed Camus and taken the Aquarius Cloth—the cape is still red with his blood." He rushed to Camus' side, but Athena shook her head.

"Cloths cannot be stolen or taken by force; they act of their own willpower. Heal the girl; you almost killed her." The goddess motioned with a hand, and the Aquarius armor detached from Anya and reformed into its neutral state: a figure bearing a vase over its head.

The Scorpio Saint walked purposefully over to the girl, who lay faintly on the now blood-soaked grass. He steeled himself, and with two stiffened fingers precisely thrust into a point on the right side of her chest; Anya's eyes rolled back in her head as she passed out, and Milo stood up. "I will need to take her somewhere to bandage her wounds. With your leave, Athena." The goddess nodded, and Milo picked up Anya and bore her away. It didn't take long for Shaka and Aiolia to appear. The Leo Saint looked critically at the Aquarius armor, whistling softly. "Milo really did a number on Camus' armor. I hope Camus doesn't take that too harshly. Can you repair it, Mu?"

The Aries Saint knelt down and examined the armor closely. "Yes, I believe this can be repaired." He grabbed the white cloak on the ground, wet with Camus' blood, and wrung it out so that droplets fell onto the Aquarius armor. The armor began to glow, and Mu calmly worked on it while Aiolia and Shaka tended to their fallen comrade. "Aiolia, please take Camus to the Aquarius temple. He'll be fine. Shaka, please assist Milo with the girl." Aiolia nodded and helped his now conscious-friend to stand up, supporting him as they walked towards the temples. Shaka merely raised an eyebrow but nodded and moved to follow Aiolia towards the Sanctuary. _This must be a special girl, if the Aquarius Cloth allowed her to wear it even for a short time. More still if Athena has taken an interest in her…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Cosmos**

Anya's eyes slowly opened, and immediately she winced in pain. "I'm sorry…I'm not the best at wrapping wounds. Mu's better at that sort of thing, but he's fixing Camus' armor," a voice said at her side, and she swung her head to focus on the man sitting there. He had thick violet hair cascading down his shoulders, and the teal eyes twinkled a bit as they regarded her; she recognized him suddenly as the one who had struck her. He nodded almost as if he'd read her mind. "I'm really sorry about that. I struck without thinking…I thought you'd stolen the Aquarius armor." She let out a breath and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Where am I? Who are you? What happened?"

"So many questions! One at a time. You are in the Scorpio temple; my temple. This is the Sanctuary of Athena in Greece. Ah, I should have introduced myself properly—I am the Saint of Scorpio. Call me Milo. As for what happened…we were hoping you could tell us."

"My name is Anya." She closed her eyes a moment, then opened them again, seeing more clearly. "I don't know what a Saint is, but… I was walking in the park like normal…and I found a turquoise-haired man in the snow, clothed in golden armor. I thought he was a soldier. He was being attacked by some sort of man in black armor who was throwing light and fire from his hands. I went to try and help him, to take him to Grandmama, and when I touched the armor it attached itself to me. The armor somehow controlled me and I attacked the black armored man; then a lavender-haired man appeared, threw some sort of balls of light at the black armored man, and then I ended up here." She gave him a suspicious look. "Am I dreaming? Where is the golden armor? Where is the turquoise-haired soldier?"

"Camus? He's in his temple, resting."

"Ca…mus?" Anya repeated, rolling the strange name around on her tongue. She knew it wasn't Russian.

"I'm fine," an icy voice came from the doorway, and Anya could faintly see the figure of the turquoise-haired Saint leaning against one of the pillars near the Scorpio entrance. His gaze was impassive. Milo grinned.

"Nice of you to knock, Camus. Feeling any better?"

"I did knock in my customary fashion. As I said…I am fine." He moved closer to them, into the light, and Anya could see a couple of bandages around his chest and right arm. She blinked in surprise, but the Aquarius Saint shook his head, turquoise mane brushing his back. "Athena demanded that these stay on for another day."

"I'm….sorry about your Cloth." Milo looked down, embarrassed. Camus' expression didn't change. "Mu is fixing it right now. He's probably almost done." The other Saint nodded and turned to leave. "Shouldn't you thank her for saving your life?" the violet-haired man called.

Camus stopped and turned around to face them. His eyes fixed on Anya and regarded her intently for a moment; Anya felt hypnotized by the piercing sapphire depths, and another, indescribable feeling assailed her soul. It was as if her soul was…vibrating like a bell. "Thank you," the Aquarius Saint said quietly, and left the temple.

"Tch," Milo shook his head. "Don't worry about him, he's always like that…" Anya nodded wearily and laid back down to sleep. After a few moments of watching her, Milo noted that she was shivering; he pulled the blanket up higher for her and left as well—he had other things to attend to today.

Hours later, when the Scorpio Saint returned to his temple, he found Anya tossing and turning in her sleep. When he got closer, he stopped, stunned: the blanket and bed were covered in patches of frost and ice. He didn't think Camus would do such a thing to someone who saved his life, and was about to call for his friend when Shaka approached. "Shaka! I don't understand…what could have happened?" The Virgo Saint glanced at him from behind closed eyelids.

"I'm surprised you haven't noticed…feel her cosmos." The Scorpio Saint closed his eyes and did so—her cosmos was akin to that of Camus! Shaka nodded.

"There are no female gold saints, but if they were permitted, she might have been a candidate for the Aquarius Cloth. I don't think she knows it, either." The Man Closest to God approached Anya's bedside, placing a hand on her forehead. "Her latent abilities awakened when she involuntarily donned the Aquarius Cloth. Her cosmos is now consuming her." The girl moaned in her sleep, and Shaka tore his hand away as frost began to coat it. "She needs a place to channel it…and she needs to confront it, as we all did in our training." He stood. "Unfortunately, since the Aquarius Cloth currently has a bearer, we will need to consult Athena." Milo nodded and replaced Anya's blanket with a new one; the girl was murmuring in her sleep, calling _Grandmama, Grandmama_. He looked at the frost critically.

"Guess I should air this outside in the sun." Shaka's lips turned ever-so-slightly upward in a mocking grin.

"You could just use your cosmos to melt it. This isn't Freezing Coffin…unless, of course, the Scorpio Saint enjoys doing laundry outside." Milo blinked…did Shaka just…tease him? The Virgo Saint was already gone by the time he stirred from his reverie. He glanced at Anya surreptitiously and began to melt the frost with his cosmos. Laundry indeed.

_Anya was dreaming; she was at home, in her bed, freezing. The blankets were pulled up over her, but she felt like she couldn't get warm. Her grandmother sat on the edge of her bed, smoothing her hair back, murmuring soothing words to her. _

_Grandmama?_

_Yes, child._

_Why am I so cold? Am I sick?_

_Yes, child. There is a sickness, a fever within you that you must fight. You will defeat it; I know you will._

_Grandmama?_

_Yes, Anya._

_Why can't I wake up from this dream? This dream that I'm in a green place with stone buildings?_

_Because something wonderful is going to happen to you, child. I always knew you weren't normal, I have known since you were born, but the spirits did not see fit to tell me what would come of it. I think this is your chance at a new future._

_But…but I want to stay with you, and live at home! I want to live a normal life!_

_Anya…sometimes, life makes the choice for us. We can either fight it, and become exhausted…or we can make the best of it, and travel with the flow. Whatever happens, know that I love you._

_Grandmama! Anya felt her hand being squeezed gently, and tears leaked out of her eyes._

A short time later, Camus was reading in his library when he heard someone clearing their throat at the door. He recognized the voice as Shaka's. He lifted his head to acknowledge the Virgo Saint, and was surprised to see the golden-haired man with a shivering Anya at his side.

"Shaka. How may I help you?" he asked politely, taking off his reading glasses and carefully setting them on the table next to him.

"Athena has asked you to take this girl and train her." Camus blinked a couple of times, his face remaining expressionless.

"Train her? I have already trained my disciple."

"Hyoga is already a full Saint with his own Cloth. He is no longer your student. Athena has asked you to take Anya and train her; it may be a matter of life and death for her." The curiosity of the Aquarius Saint was aroused at that remark—perhaps now he could learn why her cosmos was so familiar. Stranger still, he'd been told, the Aquarius Cloth had been equipped on her when the three of them returned to the Sanctuary; of course, Camus couldn't remember much, having been unconscious most of the time.

"Very well. If Lady Athena wishes it." Shaka nodded and gracefully turned to leave. For once—the Virgo Saint opened his eyes fully to regard Anya.

"Good luck," he whispered. The girl cast her gaze down, and the blonde man left. Anya stood in the doorway, waiting for Camus to say something. Instead, he watched her for a while, saying nothing. She became a little uncomfortable in the silence, and fidgeted a bit with her silvery hair. Her wise grey eyes were downcast shyly. She gave the impression of being curious and full of life, yet also sad, alone, and afraid. Anya didn't know what to make of him, only that she felt something akin to déjà vu when looking at him—almost as if they had met before, though she was certain she had never seen him before this. He seemed the silent type, watching her with those brilliant penetrating eyes; she couldn't deny that he was attractive, elegant in his bearing, but his aura—as Grandmama would have called it—was cold and severe in its authority.

Camus, meanwhile, was trying to place her in his memory. Something was tickling the back of his mind, as if he knew this girl…woman. This was no girl, much as he was no boy—he guessed she was about his age. He didn't know what to make of her—he hadn't much experience with females, let alone one who could wear his armor and saved his life. She intrigued him. Not on any sort of physical level, of course, but on a more spiritual level.

"How old are you?" he asked her.

"Twenty two winters." So. She was slightly older than he was, and far older than Hyoga was when he started his apprenticeship. The Aquarius Saint rose, stretching. He carefully marked his place in the book on the table and folded his reading glasses into their case.

"Where are you from?"

"Northern Russia. My family is decently well off and lives in Norilsk. I live with my Grandmama, near the border." So; the girl had relatives nearby. It was likely that she was as attached to her Grandmama as Hyoga was to Natassia. The Aquarius Saint almost gave a sniff of disgust; he couldn't understand these deep attachments—if you loved someone deeply, you were bound to be hurt later when they passed on.

"So you are accustomed to snow and ice; that is good. What do you know of _cosmos_?" Anya looked very confused, and the younger man sighed. They had a long way to go for her to even reach the level of a Saint in training.

By the end of the day, they had made some progress; Anya was still definitely confused, suspicious, and doubtful about her situation—he didn't blame her—but at least she was less ignorant than he had initially thought she would be. Indeed; she showed some aptitude for recognizing cosmos and possibly manipulating it. Her own cosmos was scattered and chaotic, raging within her body like a blizzard one moment then evaporating like a snowflake in the sun, sapping her strength and lifeforce as it slowly consumed her. She would have to learn to control it…or die. She needed discipline and focus; the young man believed he could give her that. He had trained Hyoga, after all—he should be able to train her.

One of Camus' servants had neatly cleaned out a room for Anya to use; the Saint didn't know how to house a female, so he left that to the young Greeks who served him. She flopped onto the bed and almost immediately fell asleep, still in her training clothes. Mu had generously lent her some of the training uniforms worn in Jamir, and Anya made sure not to damage them as best as she could; the lavender-haired man said something about them formerly belonging to a Crane Saint. However, some nights, Anya just couldn't help it…she awoke in the morning coated in frost along with her garments and bedding. The girl was mystified at this but was too shy to ask Camus about it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware that the frost was her own doing, but she couldn't figure out how to stop it.

Camus barely spared her a glance as he passed by the room, heading to his own private rooms to change clothing. In a simple blue robe and soft boots, he went back to his library, searching for something, anything that resembled this young lady. _Something_ was so familiar about her, and it bothered him that he couldn't place it. The young man prided himself on his intellect and memory, and he would solve this problem if he had to research for months to find it. If he could have defined it, he would have called this strange feeling déjà vu; it was almost as if he had met her before somewhere—and yet, he knew he had never done so. At least, he knew he had never done so in this lifetime…_where did that thought come from?_ he wondered, furrowing his brow. _Though I admit it is possible we met in another lifetime, another incarnation…I would question such a coincidence. _

Early the next morning, Anya awoke and stretched; reaching out her—what did Camus call it?—her Seventh Sense, she felt for her teacher's presence and found it in the library. Of course. She approached the doorway and stopped, her breath catching in her throat: Camus had fallen asleep, his head resting on his arms, looking at a book lying on the table in front of him. His reading glasses were lying next to him, as though he had taken them off for a moment to rest his eyes and forgotten to put them back on. He looked much younger when sleeping, and so very vulnerable…she wanted to put her arms around him and embrace him…Anya shook her head wildly. She shouldn't be having such thoughts about her new teacher! Warriors weren't vulnerable, and this man was certainly a warrior! She focused on the book…it was large and ancient, leather bound with thick straps. She leaned forward to read the title and accidentally bumped the chair in front of her.

The slight sound woke Camus, who slowly opened his eyes and realized where he was. He blinked a couple of times, half rising from the table, sparing a quick glance for the book in front of him. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he looked at the picture before him—then glanced up at Anya—then glanced down at the book again. He now knew where the strange feeling of familiarity came from, and sighed. _D__è__gel. I should have known you would be the source of this._ He shook his head at Anya's inquiring glance, composing himself to his usual neutrality. "Never mind. You wouldn't understand. Come, training begins in one hour. You will meet Hyoga today."

"Who is Hyoga?"

"My…disciple." An odd look entered his deep eyes that Anya couldn't identify, but she filed it away in her memory for later before his icy mask resumed itself. "He is the Cygnus Saint."

"I keep hearing that word. What is a Saint?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Training**

The Aquarius Saint was a little surprised when Hyoga and Anya immediately took to each other's company. It was like a meeting of old friends, even though this was the first time they'd met—this confused Camus. Why did Hyoga seem to take so quickly to her without knowing her?

"I want you to teach her your techniques, Hyoga. Centering first." The Cygnus Saint beamed happily and did just that, taking her onto the open Siberian plain to demonstrate his knowledge and skill. Camus simply watched them from afar, analyzing their strengths and weaknesses. He was curious to see what she was capable of.

"First, you need to begin by centering yourself. You have to feel like you're a miniature universe, filled with atoms. Take a couple of deep breaths, like this—" he breathed in deeply, raising his hands in an almost Tai-Chi like movement, and lowered them while breathing out. "Then, you have to imagine the atoms inside you splitting, and you get a burst of energy."

Anya shadowed his movements, and a wild burst of cosmos knocked Hyoga off of his feet and thrust him back into the snow. She glowed with a fierce light, but a surprised and frustrated look was in her eyes as though the outburst was unintended.

"You have to control the splitting, Anya. It only happens as slowly or as quickly as you tell it to."

"I'm trying, believe me Hyoga!" she panted, and suddenly streaks of blue flared through her aura. "What's happening? This doesn't feel right! I'm scared!" Anya fell to her knees in the snow.

"Anya! What's wrong?" the Cygnus asked worriedly, starting to rush toward her before he was stopped by the outstretched arm of his master.

Camus' eyes widened as he felt the power of her cosmos; this was no ordinary cosmos—this surpassed even his own. It felt more akin to the goddess Athena's own cosmos! However, it was very evident that the girl had no control over it, and they couldn't afford to have an accident. Such a thing might be lethal to both the onlookers—and the wielder.

"Anya! Hold!" he commanded, and tears streamed from her clenched eyes as she tried to concentrate. Suddenly, she collapsed as if a light switch had been flipped, and her cosmos disappeared entirely. The Aquarius Saint slowly began walking towards her as Hyoga knelt by her side; the girl was clearly unconscious, eyes rolled back in her head.

"What was that, sensei?" Hyoga asked him as the turquoise-haired man bent down to check her pulse. His gaze remained impassive as he thought a moment.

"I am not entirely sure, Hyoga. Clearly she has tapped into some hidden resource that we did not know she had, and it is like no cosmos any Saint possesses. I cannot know more until she awakens." A moan of pain halted their conversation as Anya came to partial wakefulness.

"Anya! What—" Hyoga began. Anya's only answer was a muted groan; her eyes were glazed over as though in great distress.

"Hyoga, please take her." The Cygnus Saint assented and placed a supporting arm under her shoulders to help her stand up; she was barely conscious of what was going on around her, Camus noted. Almost as if she were in another place entirely, or in a trance. He didn't know what to make of this and filed away his observations for correlation later.

As they walked, Hyoga whispered words of encouragement and told funny stories; she smiled slightly but otherwise didn't seem to register what he was saying. Camus followed silently behind, thinking hard. Now that he knew the possible identity of the girl's soul, a thousand other questions had cropped up, including what that strange blue flare was in her cosmos. Also, there was another, deeper question he had yet to find an answer to: what to make of her. The young Saint felt a very deep, strong bond with her, even though he barely knew her; his soul resonated with gentle contentment every time he saw her. Yet, he didn't know if these feelings were connected to her as a person, or from his ancient soul to the one he suspected lived in her. It didn't matter in the end; he would have to eliminate these feelings, just as he had done his utmost to eliminate any other sources of strong emotion in his life. Such things weakened Ice Saints, who had to remain calm and rational to reach maximal efficiency and accuracy. He knew that he still retained some modicum of affection towards Hyoga, and he could not seem to reconcile this with his own training. Camus prided himself on being cold, aloof, and rational, as sturdy and impassive as the nearby glaciers; a lack of companions meant a lack of tempting targets for enemies to exploit and break him with. It was better that way. And yet…_Anya is different_... He shook his turquoise mane and walked on.

It took several more sessions, but Camus finally allowed Anya to spar with the other Bronze Saints on a very basic level; he wanted her to have an outlet for her developing cosmos, and he hadn't seen any signs of the dangerous blue flares returning. Mostly, she sparred with Hyoga, but Camus wanted her to experience other fighting styles, so she eventually met Seiya, Shun, and Shiryu. Ikki scoffed at the very notion of fighting a girl and walked off with a "Tch!" The Cygnus Saint was more than a little chagrined when Anya finally beat him with his own techniques; Seiya teased him for allowing a girl to beat him, but he was happy for the girl who had been struggling so hard. Anya suffered a number of defeats at the hands of the Bronze Boys, but she persevered on, determined to defeat this fever that attacked her mercilessly and left her feeling numb and frozen inside.

Camus was troubled. Every day Anya would return to the Aquarius temple exhausted; it was as if her stamina was being consumed by her cosmos. Her bedding was still coated with frost periodically—he checked just before leaving for training—and she'd had the blue flares appear twice again. She was gaining in discipline and accuracy, and her control was better, but still not good enough. It was as if her cosmos was gaining strength faster than she could control it, and the turquoise-haired Saint couldn't determine the cause. He decided that he would spar with her himself the next morning and try to push her to her limits as an experiment in observation.

That morning, he awoke at his customary time, and heard light snoring from his library. He ducked his head inside and saw his student at the table, sleeping on a book as a pillow, arms dangling limply towards the ground. After a moment of annoyance at the treatment of the book, the Aquarius Saint quirked his lips upwards in an ironic smile—it appeared the girl had just as voracious an intellect as he did. He walked silently over to her and gazed at the book she'd been reading. His reaction was one of curiosity as he noted it was the same book he'd been reading the week before: _Lives of the 18__th__ Century Saints_, by Aquarius Dègel. Chances were good she'd memorized the title from their first meeting in the library. He guessed she had been reading about the former Aquarius Saint—probably all of the Saints—and their history. He decided to allow her to sleep today, and recover her strength—she'd need all of it, when they sparred tomorrow. He wasn't going to go easy on her. Suddenly, he heard her murmuring in Russian, and blinked in embarrassed surprise as he listened.

_Once more, Anya dreamed of her grandmother. This time, though, she was dressed in her Jamir training clothes._

_Grandmama? I miss you._

_I miss you too, child. What strange clothing you wear!_

_These are my training clothes. Camus is helping me to overcome my sickness by teaching me to channel my cosmos, my inner energies._

_The elderly woman gave her a blank look, then smiled. _

_I assume this Camus is a person, then._

_Yes. He is my teacher, a young warrior from France. He is a very noble and chivalrous person, I think..._

_Her grandmother smiled._

_Good. I am glad you have found someone to care for you and protect you. I am glad you have found new adventure and knowledge._

_Grandmama! It's not like that! Anya blushed. He is a Saint of Athena! I will become one as well, if I am successful at this training. It's frightening sometimes, frustrating, and exhausting. But I'm still alive for now._

_You will make it through, Anya. You are a strong girl. Be careful, and don't let this Camus pull any funny business on you._

_I am still a honorable maiden, Grandmama…and Camus is a good man. I think…I think I…like him._

A couple of hours later, Anya awoke with a start, cursing quietly as she realized she had overslept. She suddenly noted that a blanket was draped across her shoulders, and that Camus was quietly reading beside her. "Welcome to the waking world," he spoke simply.

"Camus-sensei, I am so sorry… I have no excuses."

"Take the day off. You will need to recover your strength for tomorrow; I expect you on the training grounds punctually to greet your new training partner."

"New training partner?"

"Do I need to repeat myself? You need to spar with someone who can push you to your limits, as any opponent on the field has the potential to do. I suggest you get some rest, for tomorrow will not be easy for you."

"Very well, Camus-sensei." She wrapped the blanket around herself and left the library, wondering where the cloth had come from. It wouldn't be like Camus to do such a thing…_would it_? If she had turned around, she would have caught a faintly amused smile on the lips of the Aquarius Saint.

Anya spent the day watching the Silver and Gold Saints in their own training routines against each other. Each Saint had their own fighting style, and a different personality in battle; from a laughing Aldebaran to a serious Shura, each had something different for Anya to analyze. She noted that they didn't use their full power against each other, which was good: she had heard stories from Hyoga about how lethal some of their techniques were. She had no wish to test the veracity of those stories! However, watching the Gold Saints spar prompted her to think about her own level of success, and why she was unable to still fully control her cosmos. She suspected it had something to do with those powerful and unpredictable blue flares of energy that flowed through her cosmos at times; she felt less like herself when those flares appeared, almost as if someone else were controlling her body and mind. It was very frustrating, and Camus couldn't help her since he didn't understand himself yet. She felt that something nameless was holding her back, some invisible wall, and it depressed her. Suddenly, she didn't want to be around others anymore, and she left to walk alone in the forests around Sanctuary.

Camus began to worry when Anya didn't return that evening to the temple. Concentrating, he immediately found her faint cosmos in a tree-filled clearing near the Taurus temple. When he saw her, he noted clinically that she'd been crying; likely, she was frustrated about her lack of progress in control. Well, Saints had to master their emotions, so he didn't feel much remorse for her. She would learn. A crunching of leaves made him whirl around, cosmos flaring, until a low voice stopped him. "Sensei? Why…oh." The moonlight revealed the silver Cygnus Cloth and its bearer. "Will you leave here there?" The blonde-haired boy had become quite fond of Anya.

"Yes. She chose to come out here herself; it is no business of mine to interfere in her choices or affairs."

"Sensei." Something in Hyoga's eyes made Camus' expression soften ever so slightly, and the older Saint took his cape off and covered Anya with it.

"That is the most I will do, and more than I did for you when you trained."

"Thank you, Camus-sensei." The Swan Saint's eyes were filled with gratitude, as he had taken kindly to Anya. She reminded him more than a little of his mother Natassia—a noble, gentle soul filled with life who sneaked a smile or a giggle when she thought Camus wasn't looking and always looked out for her fellow Saints. The Aquarius Saint frowned on such displays, but to Hyoga, it made her more human. He hoped she would pass her training and stay around—secretly, he thought she might be good for his teacher too. Camus needed someone around with a softer side, someone who could bring light and joy into his life, even if only in private. The Cygnus Saint knew that, beneath the layer of icy aloofness, there was a warm, human side to Camus, and he deserved to indulge that side once in a while.

Camus, on the other hand, cursed the emotion coursing through him for his student. She was growing on him in a strange way, one that he didn't think possible; slowly, involuntarily, she was melting his icy façade. He caught her hidden smiles and giggles, even if she didn't think he did, and for some inexplicable reason they made him want to smile in quiet joy too. That wasn't allowed, of course—such displays would weaken the dignity and reputation of the Gold Saints as a whole. He would not let it weaken him; he wouldn't! He couldn't…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Seraphina**

The next morning, Camus showed up on the Siberian plain where they had their training grounds; Anya was waiting for him, cape in hand. Wordlessly, she gave it to her teacher when he held out a hand. Her eyes avoided his in shame; she had guessed the garment was his when she awoke in the forest clearing. She knew that, of all the Saints, only those of Gold rank were allowed the billowing white capes.

"Prepare yourself," he warned, raising his cosmos. "I am not wearing the Aquarius Cloth because it would not be fair to you—but that does not mean my techniques are any less!"

The attack came immediately as the last words left his lips, and she quickly learned that he was serious. However, she had a few surprises of her own for him. The techniques Hyoga had taught her proved to be useless against the Aquarius; Camus reminded her grimly that the same technique didn't work twice on a Saint.

"Flash Blizzard!" The Aquarius Saint blinked and dodged at light speed as the deadly blades of ice sliced the air where he had been standing. A single strand of turquoise hair fell to the snow as proof of her focus and intent. He didn't have time to do much in the way of analysis, though, because her attacks came relentlessly.

"Crystalline Whip!" A delicate but immensely strong whip of crystalline structure arced through the air, binding his arms and legs together. His cosmos flared, and the whip shattered. "Diamond Dust!"

"Wall of Ice!" Well, she did learn a thing or two from watching Mu, he supposed…these were new techniques he'd never seen before. He ended up overwhelming her with his sheer quantity of cosmos; he was a master of the Seventh Sense, and could move at the speed of light—she was still learning those techniques and therefore held the disadvantage. Plus, the growth of her cosmos was still draining her stamina more quickly than she could recover.

As she lay collapsed in the snow, panting, Camus finally decided she'd had enough. The Aquarius Saint strode over to his student and offered her a hand up, wearily, she accepted it, and they began the trek back to the Sanctuary at a thoughtful pace. The two didn't speak for a time, lost in their musings, until finally, the young man spoke.

"You are doing very well," he said quietly. Anya slid him a sideways glance, only to meet his own scrutinizing gaze. "There are three other techniques you will need to learn to be a true Ice Saint—Freezing Shield, Freezing Coffin, and the most powerful—Aurora Execution."

"Thank you, Camus-sensei. I feel that I am improving, but…there is still something wrong within me."

"Unfortunately, there is little that can be done about that. Not until a pattern is determined. Until then, you must deal with whatever comes. The next time we spar, I will fight you with my true strength; I intend to push you to your utmost limits. Prepare yourself." His face looked grim and expectant. _I hope that she finds her barrier and shatters it; otherwise, she will not survive. I have been holding back my full strength, just as I did with Hyoga. _Anya simply nodded and cast her eyes down. Her eyes had grown more determined, he thought; good. She would become strong, or she would be defeated and die. He had no doubt in his mind that she would give him a good challenge; her will was strong, and she did not easily give up. However…if she died in the attempt…he didn't know how he would react. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

They walked in silence for some time, lost in their own thoughts. Anya was thinking hard about her progress and how far she'd come; she'd never beaten Camus in training, no matter how hard she pushed. Thankfully, the blue flares hadn't shown up yet; she had no desire to lose control in front of him. She would do whatever it took to complete her training; if becoming a Saint would help cure her sickness, then a Saint she would become. _Saints all bear armor—Cloths. That means I will have to have a Cloth. I wonder which one I will have to earn? I was born under the sign of Aquarius, but I would never dream of trying to take my teacher's Cloth. I have no desire to fight Camus for it. I will succeed in finding my destiny—both for myself, and for Grandmama. Then I can return home and live a normal life again…but…I….Camus…._

Camus was thinking on something else entirely. _Her intellect is refreshing—I can speak with her as an equal now—and her raw potential is vast. Very vast. She may eventually surpass me, even at my maximum strength. _His train of thought was broken when he realized she had stopped in her tracks and was looking at him with a frank and open gaze. _Those eyes…those eyes remind me of home, of the grey skies swirling before a snowstorm. D__è__gel…you were a very lucky man to have known Lady Seraphina._ He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to speak.

"Camus-sensei? If I cannot obtain one of the current Cloths—then what will I do?"

The turquoise-haired man looked thoughtful. "You will have to venture out to find one of the Four Hidden Cloths, or remain to serve in Sanctuary in another, non-Saint role."

"Hidden Cloths?"

"There are four cloths which have become lost to time, as their owners disappeared without a trace. We don't know the names of these Cloths, or their constellations anymore. Even Dègel had no records of them, and he was probably the most meticulous of the recent Saints." 

"You feel very close to him, don't you?"

A distant look entered Camus' eyes. "You might say that." He began walking again towards the Sanctuary, and nothing more was said.

That evening, Anya didn't go straight to sleep. As the Aquarius Saint passed by her room on the way to his own, he noted she was staring at the ceiling, clearly deep in thought. Curiously, he stood in the doorway until she nodded permission to enter. To her utter surprise, he came and sat on a chair beside her bed. "You look like you want to speak about something. Or, at the very least, something is on your mind preventing you from sleeping before training tomorrow."

Anya nodded again. "Who was Seraphina? I noticed Dègel mentioned her a lot in his book, but didn't say much about her."

Camus blinked in surprise; he hadn't expected that question. "Seraphina was…" He felt a thrill run through him and immediately tamped it down. "She was the love of Dègel's life. She died of an incurable illness, and her brother Unity wanted to use her body as the vessel for the god Poseidon. He wanted to restore the glory of Bluegaard by unleashing the power of the ocean deity. Dègel refused to permit that, and sealed himself, the god-possessed Seraphina, and all of Atlantis in his Freezing Coffin after sending Unity to the Sanctuary with sacred Orihalcum." His eyes were filled with sadness, but Anya smiled.

"He must have cared for her very much, to sacrifice his own life that way. Very noble."

Camus nodded. Anya's eyes looked wistful for a moment, then cleared.

"Good night, Camus-sensei." She turned over and went to sleep. Camus watched her for a few moments longer, then got up as carefully and quietly as he could and walked outside to find Shaka waiting for him.

"How goes it with the girl?"

"Anya," the other corrected automatically. Shaka would have rolled his eyes had they been open. The Aquarius Saint always took things so literally—and insisted on formalities!

"You know who I meant."

"She will be a strong Saint, I believe. Possibly stronger than myself, given enough time. She could qualify for a Silver Cloth, if one were available."

Shaka looked impressed. "You are among the strongest of us, so that is saying something—I would be curious to see her spar with Saga, then. Congratulations on your disciple and success."

Camus looked troubled. "She will not be able to spar with Saga for some time. Shaka…you are someone who knows about reincarnation and souls. Is she the reincarnation of Seraphina?" Shaka shook his head.

"It's possible…but impossible to prove. Why do you ask?"

"I have a theory…I feel a very strong bond with her, though I have only known her a short time. I now firmly believe that she is the reincarnation of Seraphina, and the part of my soul that is—was—Dègel is reaching out and communing with the part of her that is Seraphina. It would also explain why her power level is fluctuating so badly, and why she is seeing a divine energy periodically in the form of blue flares…she would have been possessed by a god in her past."

"That makes sense. What would you do if this was the truth? What of the part of your soul that is Camus of Aquarius?" When Camus didn't answer, Shaka cracked an eye to look at him, then opened both eyes in shock. The Aquarius Saint was blushing a pale rose color, eyes downcast. The blonde man couldn't tell if it was in shame or something else, but he didn't want to rudely invade his fellow Saint's mind to find out.

"I'm not sure. I would prefer not to have these strange feelings in the first place."

"Have you seen her in your dreams?" He knew what kind of dreams Shaka meant—past life dreams. All of the Saints had them, eventually. Camus had dreamed many times of Dègel, even before he had become a Saint; back then, he had not known who the strange seafoam-green-haired man was.

"I believe so, but they are always dreams of the distant past, during his time—my time, when I was Dègel of Aquarius, and she may have been Seraphina of Bluegaard—"

"Well. Dreams are powerful things, and from what you are telling me of your dreams, your theory is sound and correct. At the same time, that was the distant past—this is the present, and I know the value you place on the present. You must decide what to do with this knowledge; you are Camus, not Dègel, and you are not bound by his life and his choices. Remember that." Shaka looked at him solemnly.

"One other thing before I go—something that Buddha taught me. People are only reincarnated when it is needful—when they are required for some important task. If Anya has entered your life at this time, then it is possible that she is needed somehow here and now. Perhaps, even, you are the one that needs her, though the reason might not seem apparent." Camus nodded and turned to leave for his private room, politely bidding his guest good evening; the Virgo Saint briefly turned his face towards Anya, eyes closed.

_I hope you heard what you wished to hear, child._

Anya cracked an eye open. She didn't bother to ask Shaka how he knew she wasn't actually sleeping. He was the Virgo Gold Saint, of course, and could read minds.

_I heard all of what I wanted to hear, and more. I also have a hundred more questions now._

_That is natural. However, it is unwise to spy on a Gold Saint, especially one known as the Spy of the Sanctuary, no matter how well intentioned. Remember that. There are consequences you do not even know about yet._

_Yes, Shaka. I won't do it again._

The golden-haired man gracefully turned away and left. Anya finally went to sleep in reality.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Initiation**

The night of the anticipated battle, neither Camus nor Anya slept terribly well. The minds of both were racing, analyzing, asking themselves dozens of questions for which there might not be an answer.

_How can I fight my teacher? He's so much more powerful than me…and I'm afraid I might have a flare attack again. What if I fail? I don't want to die! I want to return home and live a normal life! I want to cure this sickness overcoming me, and I want to succeed! I want to please Camus…I want to see him smile._

_I hope she doesn't fail. I've invested enough time and effort into her teaching that she should be able to succeed on her own now. I have been through this trial once already, with Hyoga…it shames me to remember my reaction, the first time I locked him in that Freezing Coffin, and I hope to never experience that sensation of utter loss again. I will control myself and comport myself as befits a Gold Saint, no matter what happens with Anya. She must not fail!_

The Aquarius Saint awoke first, per his usual, and sat to meditate for a time. _D__è__gel…I hope you can be proud of me._ He armed himself with his Cloth and left the temple for the nearby forests around Sanctuary; he wanted to battle on the plains of Siberia, his chosen home, but the memories of that place would destabilize his carefully controlled emotions. Someplace neutral, he thought.

When he arrived, Anya was already there. A hard light was in her eyes, he noted; a determination that was the trademark of any Saint of Athena. She had stripped down to her sparring uniform, tying her silver hair back in a long ponytail, held down by a long blue scarf.

"Do you accept the challenge of Aquarius?" Camus asked her formally. The sun hadn't risen yet, but his armor already glimmered with inner light. Anya nodded and launched her attack without speaking.

Back and forth they went, until the forest was covered with frost and snow. Camus dodged at the speed of light, but she kept up with him this time. It didn't take long until he managed to trap her with Kol'tso; she was at a disadvantage in the fight—she had no Cloth, and thus no protection from his icy attacks—and was forced to burn her cosmos to prevent herself from being frozen to death. She wriggled and glared at him.

"So soon?" he asked. "I expected more from you." She snarled, and the explosion of cosmos from her took his breath away. Not only did she shatter his technique, but flung him the length of the clearing with her energy alone. He grunted as he struck a tree, falling to the ground in a shower of wood chips and pine needles. A golden hurricane swirled around her. _So. She means to end this quickly. She knows that her stamina is less than mine and that she will not endure a prolonged fight. You must analyze your enemy and use your strengths to overcome his weaknesses…I must push her harder!_

He practically teleported in front of her, using his speed to his advantage. She, however, expected such a frontal attack and had a _pair_ of techniques waiting for him—Crystalline Whip in her right hand, Kol'tso in her left, and used them at the same time. He'd never seen a Saint dual-wield different techniques before—any Saint—and it took him a moment to realize what she'd done. She even took advantage of his confusion and analysis to use a third technique once she released her Ice Ring.

"Diamond Dust!" Patches of frost appeared on his armor; she'd reached Absolute Zero. A good sign for her training—he was pleased—but it now meant his armor was next to useless. Coldly, he broke his bindings and launched a Diamond Dust attack of his own out of his left hand; when she dodged, he launched the other out of his right and managed to clip her leg, sending her tumbling to the ground.

Both of them were breathing heavily now with exertion; she managed to wound him again with a Flash Blizzard hidden within an Aurora Thunder Attack, and the ground was dotted with both of their blood. Camus knew that if he didn't finish the battle soon, he'd be defeated by her, and that was unacceptable. Her new combinations were too unpredictable to defend against, and he couldn't retaliate as she could with separate hands yet. He knew…he would have to use _it_, and pray she overcame the attack. He rose to his feet and steeled himself; did she see anxiety in his eyes? No, they were the same icy blue she remembered. He clasped his hands together like a vase, raised high above his head, and his cosmos ignited like the sun that perpetually bathed his Cloth.

Anya immediately recognized his stance, horrified—did he mean to kill her? She didn't have a Cloth to defend against that! _This is it…one last ditch effort…_ In a dazzling display of color, she burned her cosmos to its utmost limit and performed the fastest combination she'd ever done in her life. Unbeknownst to her, flares of sapphire blue streaked through her cosmos, giving her an extra boost of power. Camus stared for a moment, immediately gathering as much information as he could. _This is it; this is her limit. The flares appear when she is in danger of reaching her limit! _He released his attack.

"Aurora Thunder Attack! Diamond Dust! Wall of Ice!" All to simply slow the advance of the multicolored storm coming directly at her…and die an honorable death. The last thing she saw was Hyoga at the edge of the forest behind Camus, his eyes wet with tears.

Camus lowered his arms, and was stricken to see the motionless body of the girl at the edge of the clearing, covered in ice and frost. He'd hoped beyond hope that she would surpass her limits and survive the attack…as Hyoga had. Her divine cosmos should have enabled her to live. He knew his other student was behind him, watching, but he didn't care. He strode over to where she lay, felt for a pulse, and bowed his head. Raising his right hand, he channeled his cosmos into a Freezing Coffin.

_At the very least, I can preserve your body…you will remain beautiful, never aging for centuries. I had hoped…I had hoped that you would survive, and be a worthy friend and foster mother to Hyoga. I had hoped that you would survive…and stay here, with me…_ Hyoga was absolutely shocked to see his master quietly crying. He leaned forward to run to both Saints, but was held back by a slim white arm. Athena shook her head at him, motioning him to remain where he was.

"Je suis désolé," the Aquarius Saint murmured, and put a hand to the Coffin where it stood. The sun finally rose, setting his armor afire and illuminating Anya's body. Camus wiped his tears brusquely as he turned around to return to his temple. He barely understood why he was crying, only that he felt a wrenching grief in his soul for what he had just done.

Athena watched expectantly, and motioned for Hyoga to do the same—and to keep quiet.

A loud CRACK! made Camus whirl around, cape streaming behind him. A golden light streaked with deep blue, brighter than the rising sun, was shimmering from within the Coffin. It was the last of Anya's cosmos, her Seventh Sense and divine power combined into a final burst, and she completely shattered the ice from within. _Just like Hyoga! _Stunned, Camus managed to catch her unconscious body as it tumbled out of the frosty structure, and sure enough—her heart was still barely beating. Her body, however, was suffering from extreme cold, and Hyoga's eyes softened as he remembered what she was going through. He'd gone through the same thing, in the Libra temple a year earlier; he remembered the wrenching cold that threatened to leave him lifeless, and he'd learned later that Shun had saved his life by warming him with raw cosmos. His jaw dropped as he witnessed something he'd never seen before: for the first time in his life, Camus was using his cosmos to warm something up. Or someone, rather—pure golden light danced around the two Saints in the middle of the clearing as Camus channeled his cosmos through Anya to bring her back to consciousness, much as Shun had for the Cygnus. His eyes were closed in concentration, and his hair undulated as if a gentle wind was blowing through it.

Anya slowly opened her eyes, and the first thought going through her mind was _I'm alive. Praise Athena, Grandmama, I'm ALIVE!_ Her mind was still lethargic, and a moment later she realized where she was. Not that she could do anything about it—she couldn't move her body; it wouldn't respond to her—but she was more than a little surprised to find Camus holding her amidst a sea of golden light.

Weakly, she raised her head to look at him, and saw the second surprise; she could tell he'd been crying. _Camus? Cry? I never thought it possible. _He was watching her intently…_those eyes, they are swallowing me whole_… As she tried to force her brain to work properly, she suddenly realized he had shyly brushed his lips against hers in a brief but gentle kiss. _I…must be dead and dreaming in the Underworld…_ She tried to speak and failed as the last of her energy fled; her eyes rolled back as her head fell against his chest. The golden aura quickly faded as the Aquarius Saint retracted his cosmos.

Camus merely closed his eyes and held her for a moment, grateful she was alive. The resonance in his soul had grown stronger as he held her, and a serene bliss enveloped him. He didn't fight it this time, lowering his head to rest on her silvery hair, and murmured something too soft for Hyoga to hear.

Shortly, the turquoise-haired man picked up Anya, tucking her head under his chin, and made his way back to the Aquarius temple by one of the hidden paths; he didn't want the other Saints interfering—or teasing him. In the early morning light, Athena and Hyoga shared a secret smile. It was finally happening. Winter…was slowly becoming Spring.

By the time he returned to his temple, Camus was nearly stumbling from exhaustion. He went into his private sleeping room, still carrying Anya, and commanded his Cloth into its neutral form. It detached itself obediently, and he laid the young woman on his bed, not even considering the consequences. The Saint covered her with a light blanket, then wearily laid down on the bed beside her, turquoise mane fanning out behind him. _I'll watch over her healing. Just for one night. Athena, forgive me, but I can't help it…D__è__gel's spirit must be possessing me._ He watched Anya for a few minutes, then fell asleep himself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Emotion**

When Anya awoke in a few hours with a groan, she opened her eyes—and froze in place. Turquoise strands of hair were draped across her hips, and a strong arm was loosely wrapped around her waist. "Allez dormir, Anya," murmured a voice softly behind her. "Go back to sleep."

"Sen…sei?" she asked, already knowing the answer. _Why, by all the gods, is Camus sleeping next to me? Holding me? Why am I in a bed next to him?_

"You don't have to call me that anymore. You passed the test."

The girl rolled onto her back to look over at him. He was still lying there, eyes closed, but Anya knew he was awake. She subconsciously raised a hand to brush the long fringe away from his cheek, and his deep sapphire orbs opened slowly to regard her. He didn't move to stop her gesture. _What am I doing? Why did I just caress him? And yet…he didn't kill me…or move to prevent it…_

"But I have no Cloth, as of yet."

"You will. You have the willpower to succeed; now you must gain your Cloth and take your place in Athena's pantheon beside the other Saints. Hyoga is proud of you."

"I know you care deeply for him…I can see it in your eyes. I am…I am not so important as him! I'm just…Anya." She suddenly realized what he didn't, or perhaps couldn't, say…that he was proud of her as well.

He looked at her with luminous eyes and didn't answer; merely raising an eyebrow, he waited. Anya started to turn red under that intensely probing gaze and looked away. Satisfied she had reached the correct conclusion, Camus closed his eyes again. "Go to sleep, Anya. You need to heal." She turned over to face him this time and shyly snuggled closer to him, seeking warmth; immediately, she fell asleep once more—the last thought she had before she drifted off was that Camus' body was much warmer than she expected it to be. It didn't take long for the Aquarius Saint to join her in inexplicably blissful slumber, slightly tightening his arm around her waist. _ I cannot believe I am allowing this…this is…not rational, this is absolutely crazy…I should lose my knighthood over this…and yet…I feel…peacefully content…_

When Anya next awoke, Camus was gone. It was early in the afternoon, and she nearly panicked before realizing that this was not a training day, and that she hadn't overslept. Sitting on the side of the bed, she looked around and noted that this was definitely not her room—in fact, she didn't recognize this room. However, based on what she saw, she concluded that this must be Camus' own sleeping quarters. The room was decorated with beautiful ice sculptures and paintings depicting various scenes in both Siberia and France, reflecting his mixed heritage. The sun shone through the open window to the east of the room, turning the sculptures the colors of the Aurora Borealis. It was amazing, and took her breath away.

She got up and saw his armor sitting neatly in the corner in its neutral position, so she knew he wasn't out on mission. Clinically, she gave herself a once-over, checking her limbs to make sure nothing was still injured. Her wounds had healed incredibly quickly compared to what she was accustomed to—she assumed it must be a trait associated with cosmos. As she went to leave the room, the armor pulsed twice with golden light. Her attention caught, Anya turned back around and stood before the Cloth solemnly, head cocked to one side.

_Listen, child. Thou canst not be my master; Camus will hold that position as long as he lives. Thou must find thy own Cloth; I have heard the cries in thy heart to be a Saint. Thou art worthy of me, but there is another that would suit thee better, a Cloth that is meant for thee alone…_ Anya's eyes widened as the spirit of the Aquarius Cloth spoke to her of one of the Four Hidden Cloths of Athena.

When Camus returned from giving his report to Athena, he saw that Anya wasn't in his room. "Anya?" he called, feeling for her with his Seventh Sense. Her cosmos wasn't anywhere to be found, though traces of it lingered in his bed and in her room. He went to her room and found a note on the bed, scrawled in quick Russian letters—

_Gone to seek my Cloth. By Athena's grace, I will return soon._

He sighed and nodded; if such was her destiny, then he could not change that. He whispered a prayer to Athena that the young woman would return soon—alive—and with her Cloth. What he didn't know was that the goddess Athena heard his prayer—and smiled. _Camus…be at ease. I will watch over Anya as one of my own Saints._

The next morning, as Camus sparred with Milo, the Scorpio Saint noted the distant look in his friend's eyes and narrowed his brows in thought. "What's on your mind?" The Aquarius Saint shook his head and continued the fight, but it ended quickly as Milo threw him to the ground and held him there. "Okay, something has to be on your mind…you're never this distracted. I usually have a much harder time beating you." Camus looked at his best friend, shooting a surreptitious glance at the Aquarius temple, and Milo suddenly understood.

"Ahhhh, you have a certain beautiful woman on your mind. There's nothing wrong with having a beautiful woman on your mind—or in your bed." He chuckled saucily, and Camus glared at him.

"Milo, that's uncouth."

"Who do you think you're talking to? I am the Saint of Scorpio…you know what my constellation stands for. And I happen to know that you weren't alone last night." Camus actually turned pink!

"I wasn't thinking of that. AT ALL." Camus got up, walking away to sit on a nearby knoll. He turned his face away, and the violet-haired man sat down next to his best friend on the grassy hill.

"You know, Camus…" he began seriously, looking at the icy Saint with a frank gaze. "Having a relationship is okay. There is nothing banning Saints from having one, and if it makes you happy…?"

Camus shook his head. "Perhaps other Saints can have them, but for Gold Saints—it is an albatross." Milo looked confused, and the turquoise-haired Saint knew that his friend had missed the literary reference. "In other words, it's a risk we cannot take—our enemies would have a temptation to harm our loved ones in order to get to us. I have no wish to suffer that fate."

"It's not that, Camus. It's more that…" Milo spoke a little more slowly, thinking about what he was saying, "Athena always says that she wants the people of earth to be protected and happy. I think that means ALL people, including her Saints. We are beings of earth too. We may be Saints, even Gold Saints, but under the armor—we are still human. We are still men of flesh and blood—and desires."

Camus nodded. Milo could tell that the other wasn't convinced, but he was pleased enough that Camus appeared to be thinking deeply about what he'd just been told. It was the best the Scorpio Saint could do, for the moment—and the most intelligent he'd sounded in a long time. He patted the Aquarius Saint on the shoulder and got up, leaving his friend to think alone. Camus laid back on the grass, staring at the sky thoughtfully and wondering what was happening with his stu—his _former_ student. He didn't really know what to call her. _What is she to me? An acquaintance, certainly…no, more than that. She is the light to my darkness, the warmth to my icy heart, the reincarnation of my lover—_he suddenly stopped. How poetic. Was that himself now speaking, or himself as Dègel? It -had- to have been his incarnation. Troubled, he sat up and went to talk to one of the most trusted men he knew.

Anya, meanwhile, was already in Western Siberia. She'd used her newfound light speed to get there in a short amount of time; mentally, she thanked the spirit of the Aquarius Cloth for telling her the approximate location of this armor, even if it hadn't known the name or even the appearance of the armor. Or, if it did, it hadn't told her. She suspected it had never told Camus of this Hidden Cloth either. She stopped to take stock of her surroundings, and to do some logical analysis on her target. The Cloths, she'd researched, usually took on the characteristics of wherever it was found. So an ice-based Cloth would be found in an icy climate; a fire-based Cloth would be found in a volcano or some such location; a wind-based Cloth would be found high on a mountain top. So whatever this Cloth was, it was an ice-based armor, and she rather liked that notion. Also, it had to be one of the constellations contained within the realm of Aquarius, her astrological ruler; she had been born on February 11. _Hmmm._ Still thinking, she started moving again, wandering across the snowy plains, feeling out anything strange with her Seventh Sense. _Maybe I can visit Grandmama when I find my Cloth, and show it to her…I bet she would be surprised. Well, no, maybe not…Grandmama has always believed in strange things. She would probably tell me that I've finally found my destiny._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Advice**

Camus arrived at Aries temple with a bit of trepidation. He trusted Mu, but wasn't sure how the other would react to his problem. He'd left his Aquarius Cloth at his temple, and thus approached the temple of the Ram in a casual sleeveless turtleneck and loose pants. He briefly flared his cosmos, the equivalent of a knock for him, and entered, looking around. Mu looked up from his central area, feeling the burst. _Camus of Aquarius? I wasn't expecting him._ _I wonder what's going on._ The lavender-haired man got up gracefully, ponytail swaying behind him, and went to the hosting area of his temple; there, he found Camus curiously examining one of his metalwork sculptures.

"I made that recently," the Aries Saint offered, gently getting the other's attention. Camus looked at him. "I have been working with metalcraft, when not mending Cloths."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder…this is very skilled work." Mu smiled in thanks.

"I take it you did not come here to speak of my art. Would you take tea?"

The Aquarius Saint nodded. "Please." He sat on one of the couches in the room, looking thoughtful as Mu brewed tea for the two of them. _Chamomile tea, I think. If I'm not mistaken in reading his cosmos, he's nervous. That's not like Camus._ The Aries Saint handed his fellow warrior a cup of steaming tea; he sighed when Camus blew on it to cool it—and frost appeared around the edges of his cup. _Next time, I'll just make him some iced tea. It would save some time_, the Ram thought, amused. He sat across from Camus and adopted a listening position as his teachings advised. "Since you are not here about my metalworking, I can safely guess you are here for advice." Camus nodded, and Mu encouraged him to speak.

"I will be to the point," the turquoise-haired man began, then cast his eyes downward. "I believe I am falling in love."

Mu smiled a little; not making fun of his friend, but rather in joy for him, and in mirth that he had come to ask advice about that, of all things. Who would have thought?

"You do not take this to be appropriate behavior for Saints, especially Gold Saints. You want this to cease," Mu deduced, and Camus gave an affirmative.

"It is making me weaker…I can feel it. Milo beat me in practice this morning in under 5 minutes."

The Aries Saint raised an eyebrow—that was quick, for Milo. Usually, for anyone to beat Camus in sparring took 15 minutes, mostly because the other man was always analyzing his opponents' strategies and creating counter strategies on the fly. The only men who could manage to best him faster than that were Shaka and Saga, and that was due to their own strategic prowess and massive cosmos reserves. "Why do you think it is making you weaker?"

"Because it is stealing my concentration." The Aquarius Saint sighed. "Mu, you know I am a person of cold logic. Love…has no place in logic. If I expect to carry out my duties as the Saint of Aquarius, I cannot have such distractions in my life. And yet…when it matters most, I cannot seem to help myself." Camus genuinely looked miserable and tortured, and Mu's heart ached for the other man. It seemed Camus didn't know what to do with himself, and was fighting some sort of inner demons that were winning against him. He'd likely never felt this way before and was reacting like a caged animal.

"You know, Camus…sometimes, relationships aren't a weakness—they are a strength. Consider your bond with Cygnus Hyoga. In your battle with him inside the Aquarius temple, he inspired you to give your life to teach him his greatest lesson, did he not?" The younger man nodded. "The people we care for the most inspire us to greater feats. Because we want to protect them, to nurture them, to make the world a better place for them, we fight all the harder. We fight for Athena because we care for her—she is not a weakness—would you agree with that statement?"

It certainly made sense to Camus, but he couldn't deny the empirical evidence on the sparring field: he was losing his battles, and that was unacceptable. He said as much to Mu, who shook his head a little.

"Life comes and goes in cycles; we cannot always win our battles. If we did, there would be no sense of competition, no sense of striving. We would be gods. But, back to the matter of love—I think, Camus, that we are human, and that is no small thing. We are born, we live, and we die—such short lives, Shaka would tell you, in the span of the universe. We should enjoy what gifts we are given—including the gifts of life and love—and do what our hearts tell us to do. We are Saints, but we are also living, caring beings. If we were simply to operate on logic, we would be no better than the Cloths we wear. We would be machines."

Camus cocked his head to the side, turquoise hair draping over his arms as he pondered this new line of logic. Mu knew that, while the other was analyzing what he'd said and sorting out what was relevant and what wasn't, logic was not the key to the Aquarius Saint's problems. Camus could think about this as much as he wanted to, but unless the younger man confronted and came to terms with his inner demons—which were born of warring emotions in his heart—then nothing would be solved.

"You know, Camus…Dègel managed to love and live at the same time as the Aquarius Saint. He lived a very fulfilling life before the end, and from what I have heard from Master Shion—he was very happy and had no regrets about his choices." This actually brought a reaction out of Camus; his eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed as he cast his gaze downward.

"Dègel is no longer living, though—times have changed. I…I believe he may be the source of my problems…I think his soul is awakening these feelings within me. Anya…Anya is the reincarnation of Seraphina."

It was Mu's turn to be surprised. _Well, now. I hadn't guessed the target of his affections was his student. If his student is the reincarnation of his former love… That changes things immensely…and explains a lot._ _I think perhaps I should speak to Lady Athena._

The purple-haired Saint got up from the couch and moved next to Camus, putting a hand on the other man's shoulder. The younger man jumped slightly, unused to the warm physical contact. "I have faith in you Camus…you are a competent, loyal Saint of Athena. You have always been among the strongest of us, in mind and heart, and I believe that you will be able to overcome this and find a path that will make you happy." To Mu's surprise, Camus' eyes glittered with unshed tears.

"Thank you, Mu," The Aquarius Saint said softly, looking at him in gratitude. He rose, quickly getting control of himself, and left the Aries temple after saying farewell. Mu watched him leave thoughtfully, then went back to finish drinking his tea. No sense in letting it go to waste. _If there is a way, I think Camus needs to speak with D__è__gel. Only someone that similar to him, someone who understands what it is to be Aquarius could convince Camus that love is a worthy—and acceptable—path to walk. I must speak with Athena, and perhaps Shaka._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Rescue**

It wasn't long before Anya found her destination. A single tree stood before her on the open plain; about a mile to the east stood an icy cliff, and rocky hills surrounded her in the other three directions. The tree was tall, very tall—in fact, tall enough that she could barely see the top of it, even when standing on the cliff's edge; it was completely stripped of branches, except at the summit—as if other people had tried to climb the tree and broken off the limbs as they fell. The bark was completely sheathed in ice, making it nearly impossible to scale in the usual fashion. At the apex of the tree was a single shining box, etched with intricate designs featuring some sort of bird of prey. The box was calling to her; she could feel it in her heart and in her mind. It tempted her; it challenged her to claim it.

She'd already tried her Crystalline Whip—it didn't reach far enough at all, even when she used two of them. Neither Diamond Dust nor Aurora Thunder Attack was useful in knocking it down—in fact, the box had reflected both attacks back at her, and she'd had to use her light speed to dodge. She didn't want to risk using Aurora Execution on it; if it was a Silver Cloth, she'd destroy it with such an attack, assuming it wasn't reflected back at her like the others. She tried riding an Ice Wall up, but couldn't make it far enough. Defeated, she sat down at the base of the tree to think.

_Child…child of the ice and snow…hear me._ Anya looked up; that voice! Was it the spirit of this Cloth?

_Child of the Siberian plains, listen well. I am the Gyrfalcon Cloth; the armor of the arctic falcon. To claim me, you must welcome the spirit of the falcon within. You must become the falcon. You must create a new technique to prove your worth, and to claim me._

_Become the falcon? How do I do that?_ Anya's mind was racing, analyzing. How…_OH. I understand why the other candidates could not reach this Cloth…to acquire the Gyrfalcon Cloth, one must be able to fly, and no Saint is capable of that save the God Cloths and the Sagittarius Cloth._ She considered a moment. _How do birds fly? They ride the warm thermals of air rising from the ground, and float…_

"So I have to create a thermal by forcing air upwards," she spoke aloud, holding a hand out before her and focusing her cosmos in a tight blast of cold air.

"Siberian Wave!"

Frigid air blasted downward, forcing the warmer air upward, and Anya found herself lightly floating skyward; she quickly sank back down as the warm air dissipated, but she'd already found her answer. A running start from the cliff, and then…her new technique.

"Siberian Wave!" This was taking a LOT more cosmos than she'd expected, but she had to persevere. This was her Cloth, HER Cloth, and she wasn't about to let it go. The girl was riding the thermals like a bird, and just as she started to sink she'd fire off another Wave towards the ground, thrusting herself back upward. She could see the Cloth now, a shining Silver box in the bleak sunlight of the Siberian sky, and gathered what was left of her cosmos into a final burst.

"SIBERIAN WAVE!" she shrieked, unknowingly sounding much like a bird of prey, shooting the last of her energies towards the ground and being thrust upward in return. She grasped the Silver box and immediately began plummeting to the ground as the hot air cooled; bereft of cosmos, she could only close her eyes and clutch the box tightly to her, whispering a prayer to Athena.

_Please Athena…if there is any chance, please let me live so that I can see Camus and Grandmama once more. I want peace in the world, and I want love as well…_

The Silver box gave off intense light as it opened, revealing a glittering set of Silver armor that quickly attached itself to the girl. Yards before she would hit the ground, the metallic wings of the Gyrfalcon Cloth snapped open, gliding her headfirst into a dozen-foot tall snowdrift. She groaned, unable to move from the shock of the impact, and simply lay there in weary pain.

_I did it…I won my Cloth. Athena, Camus, Hyoga…be proud of me…I won._

The cold was rapidly getting to her; she was getting sleepy. "I have to move, or I will die…" she murmured to herself, eyes flickering closed. "Protect me, Cloth…"

_Anya….. Anya….. You must wake, Anya…. _The girl wearily opened her eyes, still unable to move. That voice—she recognized it. In her mind, a vision appeared out of clouded mists; the goddess Athena was looking at her, dressed in her royal regalia, and beside her stood Camus in his glittering Aquarius Cloth. _You have a loved one looking for you, Anya._ The goddess was glowing with a golden light, and her hair floated behind her as if weightless.

"Hyo….Hyoga?"

_Yes, Anya. You must burn your cosmos, so that he may find you. You must not give in!_

She felt Camus' cosmos reach out to her, touch her as if to give her strength. _Nous reviennent_, she heard him call softly; Athena smiled as the Aquarius Saint watched Anya with a focused, intent gaze. Anya didn't understand his words, but she understood the emotion behind them, and made to respond—

"Anya!" she heard as if coming from a great distance, and the vision in her mind wavered and disappeared. "Anya!" the call repeated. _Hyoga_.

"For you," she whispered fiercely, gathering herself. A faint golden aura surrounded her, and she burned her cosmos as long as she could.

Hyoga was armed in his Cygnus Cloth; he left the Sanctuary as soon as he heard what had happened, by Athena's leave of course. He'd been looking for Anya for about a day now, and hadn't seen any trace of her; the windblown snow had already covered her tracks by the time he arrived, and he wasn't skilled enough to read the faint traces of her cosmos as his master was. No, he needed a beacon, and—there it was. Almost as if Athena had heard his prayer and ignited it, Anya's cosmos blazed to the east. He ran quickly towards the source, hoping she was okay.

Initially, when he arrived, he didn't see her. However, upon second inspection, he noted a metallic object poking out of a large snowdrift; two objects, in fact, one on either side of the drift. He gently pulled on one and received a muffled groan in return. _Thank the goddess, she's here—and alive._ Hyoga promptly used his mastery of the snow to blast the majority of the snowdrift off of Anya and uncover her; she was burning with a golden aura that immediately died once she saw him.

"Hyo…ga?" she asked, looking at him with glazed eyes. The young man smiled gratefully.

"I'm here, maman," he responded. Anya smiled blissfully, a tear coming out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm so glad…to see you. Can't move…too tired…no cosmos left." He looked her over critically. Yes, she was indeed running on reserves when it came to cosmos, but she had no visible wounds on her body. Good; she was just exhausted and not injured. He put an arm under her shoulders and helped her struggle to her feet, and the two of them walked to the cave Camus kept near the training grounds. There, they found supplies and most importantly for Anya, a bed. She didn't even take off her armor before flopping down, already unconscious by the time she landed, wings sprawling over the edge.

_Thank you…my friend…._

Hyoga smiled warmly as he saw Anya sleeping, and the smile disappeared to be replaced by curiosity quickly afterward. He took the opportunity to examine her armor—this was no Cloth he'd ever seen. The headpiece was a cross between a Valkyrie helm and a medieval circlet, with winged sides similar to the Cygnus Cloth; it dipped to a graceful V point over her brow, like the beak of a bird of prey. The gorget was similar to her headpiece, plain, with a graceful V-shape; her pauldrons were shaped like outstretched wings, and the breastplate was tooled with feathered designs. The gauntlets on her arms were also tooled beautifully; on her hips rested a feathered skirt, longer in the back as if mimicking a tail, with tooled greaves on her calves. Silver sandals covered her feet, shaped much like the talons of a hunting bird. The great metallic wings of the Cloth were spread out behind her—that couldn't have been comfortable—much like those of the Sagittarius Cloth. It was a wondrous Cloth, to be sure—he wondered how much she knew of it. Quickly, he prepared a place for himself to sleep on the floor, putting down a blanket and rolling up a towel for a pillow. He didn't take off his armor either, just in case he needed to protect her during the night. The cry of a bird of prey could be heard in the distance, and Hyoga shivered.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Visitation**

Athena smiled at her Aquarius Saint, who would have practically been pacing the floor were it not for his stoic self-control. He turned to look at her, doing his best to project an impassive expression worthy of the dignity of the Gold Saints.

"Was that a true vision, or simply a conjured dream?"

"It was true, Camus. Anya has found her Cloth, and Hyoga is now with her." She met his gaze with kindly eyes. "She will return to Sanctuary tomorrow, when the storm has passed. In two days' time, she will be vested as a Silver Saint."

He nodded. "I suspected she would be a Silver."

"The Silver Saint designation is not an indication of her power, but merely a sign of what armor she bears. The armor will not restrict the development of her cosmos in any way—even if the divine blood within her flares once more." He looked tired, she noted; he had accompanied her nearly the entire night, watching over the new Silver Saint as she journeyed for her Cloth.

"Go to bed, Camus. Anya would be worried if she arrived and you were not there to greet her as a fellow Saint."

He bowed to the goddess on one knee, tamping down the urge to yawn, and made his way back to the Aquarius temple. Neatly stowing his armor, he practically fell into his bed, exhausted. He didn't even have the energy to pull the blanket up over himself before he was fast asleep. He didn't know that Athena was watching him just as closely as she did Anya. _Oh Camus. You care so much, despite your frosty façade…and you can't seem to admit it. I want all of my Saints to be happy, no matter what it takes. _A hard determination entered her eyes. _Even if it means my own sacrifice. _A moment later, she smiled. _You have my blessing, Camus of Aquarius._

Anya arrived shortly after midnight to the Sanctuary, she was breathing hard as if she had run a great distance, and she was still wearing the Gyrfalcon Cloth. Hyoga was beside her, also breathing heavily; he was unable to run at light speed for long distances as she could, so Anya had to periodically slow down for the Cygnus Saint to catch up. They'd both traveled without stopping, though. The two Saints parted ways when they arrived; Hyoga went to pay his respects and give his mission report at Athena's chambers—it was she, after all, who had sent him after Anya—and the newest Saint made her way slowly over to the Aquarius temple.

She walked inside, flaring her cosmos briefly as Camus had taught her, and looked around. The temple was very quiet; there was no light on in the library as she'd expected. She checked her room—all was as it had been, with the exception of her note missing. "Camus?" she called softly. She hesitated a moment—she didn't like entering his private chambers without permission. Armor clinking lightly, she stood in the entrance to his room and smiled in relief. He was sprawled on the bed and looked completely exhausted; no wonder he hadn't responded to her cosmos or the noise of her armor. His features were drawn in worry, even in sleep, and Anya's heart ached a little. She hadn't meant to cause him worry; she wanted him to be proud of her. _I did it, Camus. I won my Cloth. For you, and for Hyoga, and for Grandmama. Most of all, for myself._

She unfolded one of the blankets at the foot of his bed and drew it up over him, being careful of his turquoise mane that was cascading everywhere, gave him a soft caress, and wearily made her way back to her own room. Hesitatingly, she mentally tried contacting her Cloth and asked it to disarm. Nothing happened; suddenly, she felt an odd pulsing in her heart, and a sense of a basic foreign intelligence. It felt like she was being asked a question through pure emotion, rather than words, and she tried to radiate assent. Promptly, the Cloth disarmed and sat in the corner of her room, assembling into the shape of a falcon perched for flight. Anya knew on a subconscious level that her Cloth had been trying to speak to her, but she couldn't really understand its language yet. She knew that she would learn, though, and quickly drowsed off in her exhaustion.

Just before she was about to drift off into the realm of dreams, she heard a familiar voice in her head. The low, smooth voice that she had come to associate with Aquarius Cloth.

_Congratulations, child. You now have your own Cloth. You will join Athena's Saints shortly._

"Why do you always call me 'child'? I'm 22 years old…I haven't been a child in several years," Anya murmured softly aloud.

_Because I am centuries old. To me, Anya, you are a child._ If a disembodied voice could sound amused, this one did.

"Centuries old? Who are you?" Her eyes were already slipping closed, her breath deepening.

_My name is—_

She drifted off.

Camus awoke with a start the next morning, realizing the sun was already up. He hadn't expected to oversleep. Eyes glazed over, he sat up, and suddenly realized that traces of Anya's cosmos—recent traces—lingered in this room. Quickly, he got up, taking a moment to run his hands through his mane in case he had unexpected guests; he did have a reputation to uphold, after all, at home or no. The traces of cosmos became stronger as he approached her room, and he quietly quested inside with his own cosmos, probing the surrounds before he entered. Indeed, Anya had returned and was asleep in her room. Breathing a private sigh of relief, he poked his head inside to visually confirm that all was well; he did not wish to be rude by entering without permission. In the corner sat a glimmering silver falcon that he suspected was a Cloth. It wasn't one he had seen before, and certainly wasn't one that was listed in any of Dègel's meticulous writings. The Cloth flashed a dim silver aura as he looked at it, then went quiet. The Cloth, like its owner, was likely mending. Silently, he padded away, reassured that all was as it should be.

Camus headed towards the main hall of the Aquarius temple to do his morning meditation before his usual training. He didn't notice the Aquarius armor glow slightly and shift soundlessly; he'd just sat down to begin his meditation when he noticed a familiar cosmos coming from the doorway to his private hall. His eyes snapped open in disbelief—it was his own cosmos emanating from the doorway! _I must be hallucinating…What? What is…._ The Aquarius armor appeared before him, clothing the ghostly form of Aquarius Dègel himself. _This is not possible. D__è__gel is dead!_

"Not quite, Camus. I never actually died. My body still rests, alive, in Bluegaard." The ghostly figure stepped out of the doorway into the full light, where he shimmered slightly, then solidified into a living being. "But I have been granted one hour to be embodied here by Lady Athena. She asked me to speak with you about your companion." Camus winced.

"I do not need outside intervention—it is your spirit that has been controlling me and causing me to act this way," he muttered harshly, and Dègel seemed to ignore it. He held the Aquarius headpiece in one hand as he came to stand a few yards away from the current Aquarius Saint.

"Nay, Camus—I have not forced you to act in any manner. That is an impossibility. However, we share the same soul, the same feelings…you know my story," the ancient Saint said softly. "You have seen it in your dreams." Camus nodded. He was well acquainted with Dègel's past—his own past, in a very real sense—through the past-life dreams he had experienced for years. He knew of his incarnation's unspoken feelings for the Lady of Bluegaard, and that in the end, the ancient Aquarius had chosen to give his life to die beside her and protect the world in the process.

"You taught me much," the current Saint spoke slowly. "But you did not teach me—or warn me—about this. In fact…you informed me that Aquarius Saints were as cold as the glaciers in Eastern Siberia. Why?"

Dègel smiled a little sadly. "I am sorry for that, Camus. I did not expect you to walk my own path, to fall in love. I did not expect you to find the reincarnation of Seraphina. But I tell you, Camus—" the older Saint gave a genuinely happy smile now—"it is a worthy path to walk, and there is no shame in having someone to love. I have no regrets." The other man looked down, and Dègel knew his reincarnation was battling with his inner demons. Logic against emotion.

"You seem to think that emotion makes a Saint weaker. Why is that?" The older Saint prompted gently. Camus sighed.

"Empirical evidence. I have been losing practice matches often now, and my cosmos has been chaotic when I train. When I attempt to exert greater control over it, I fail every time, and when I do, I know it is because she is on my mind." He glanced in the direction of her bedroom, and Dègel shook his head, long seafoam-green hair brushing his back.

"It only affects you this way because you allow it to. You perceive love as a weakening emotion rather than a strengthening one. If you alter your perceptions—reality is, after all, a collection of perceptions—then your reality will change as well. It is the hypochondriac response: imagining oneself to be sick, or weak, can cause oneself to actually become the image of our imagination." He clasped Camus on the shoulder, lilac eyes radiating warmth. "Life is finite for us, Camus. We are not immortals. We have a short time to make our mark on the world, to give worth to our existence before we disappear like an ephemeral dream. If love gives us a sense of worth, then it satisfies our purpose for living. Does that make sense?"

The current Saint nodded, thinking. "But even you had problems controlling your emotions when necessary. Master Krest chided you time after time for not keeping focus when your feelings were aroused. What of Garnet? What of Krest? You would tell me to keep a cool head, when you could not even keep one yourself!" Dègel winced; Camus was right. "And then you would tell me that emotions are right, are worthy, and yet you nearly died in that mission because of your emotions…"

"That is true," Dègel whispered, bowing his head for a moment, allowing his long fringe to cover his face. When he raised his face again to regard Camus, his beautiful eyes were filled with determination. "And yet, Camus, those same emotions allowed me to be the victor in my mission to the land of the Vouvire. I fought for my own way, my own path, against a master who would advocate that I have no emotion at all. My determination, my love for Lady Seraphina, my loyalty to Lady Athena, all combined to give me the strength to overcome my master! Sometimes in a battle, Camus, the one who wins simply had a fraction more determination to win than his opponent. I won over Master Krest by a mere sliver, because my added strength came from my heart. You faced the same situation in your battle with Hyoga; while you may be the most powerful Ice Saint of this era, you capped your own strength by not allowing your emotions—your love, your loyalty, your complete confidence in your own power—to give you the victory. Hyoga had the fraction more determination to win!"

Dègel didn't want to have to do this the hard way, but it appeared that Camus was incapable of defeating his inner emotional demons on his own; he would have to push his reincarnation with force. The older man understood the situation, of course—he'd been through the same thing, earlier in his life with his own master, but had eventually learned to balance both logic and emotion in his life. It was one of the reasons he was known widely as the wisest of Athena's Saints.

The attack took Camus so suddenly that he didn't even have time to ignite his cosmos. "Love is not a weakness—"

The second attack flung the younger Saint nearly the length of the main hall to land with a grunt against the wall—"it is a strength!" Dègel spoke strongly and held up a hand blazing with cosmos, icy determination in his eyes. Yet, as Camus looked up at him, wiping a small trickle of blood from his mouth, he saw compassion in the ancient man's eyes as well; he knew Dègel didn't want to kill him, but would use any means necessary to get his point across. Including battling him to the very edge of death.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Resolution**

Anya felt Camus' cosmos explode even in her sleep, and she woke with a jolt. "Camus!" she screamed before she'd even fully awoken. She attempted to summon her Cloth, but the armor either didn't understand or refused her request; growling in frustration, she ran towards the source of the problem without her armor. What she saw shocked her.

As Anya skidded to a halt just inside the main hall, her eyes widened at the scene. Too stunned to say anything, she simply stared at both Aquarius Saints, who had both turned to look at her. _Who is this green-haired man wearing the Aquarius Cloth? …He looks just like Camus, enough to be his twin brother...my soul recognizes him as someone I know, someone I feel…strongly for…Aquarius Dègel?…but…isn't D__è__gel dead?_

Their two reactions were a study in opposites; Dègel smiled contentedly at her, exuding warmth and affection, while Camus looked at her with panic and concern—and a third emotion she couldn't seem to identify.

"She looks just as Lady Seraphina did two centuries ago," the ancient Aquarius Saint murmured approvingly. "You are lucky, Camus, to have found such a beautiful and intelligent woman." Camus, stricken at her appearance, couldn't say anything from where he lay on the ground, struggling to rise on near-frozen legs. He wanted to tell her to run, to get away from the battle, but couldn't seem to make himself speak the words.

Dègel bowed gracefully before Anya, cape swirling elegantly about him. "My Lady Anya…I am sorry. But I must do this for the sake of my reincarnation, and at the request of Lady Athena." Pointing an index finger at her, he surrounded her with brilliant icy rings. Anya snarled and tried to struggle within her bonds, but she found herself completely unable to move; her limbs were frozen.

"The same technique doesn't work twice on a Saint!" she cried, her efforts growing weaker. The older man shook his head grimly.

"This is a different technique than that of Camus; it is called Grand Kol'tso. One he has not yet taught you." Anya's thoughts flowed lethargically. Dègel's technique was freezing the air around her, not only immobilizing her but making her sleepy as well. The deadly cold was numbing her body, slowing her heartbeat and blood flow; slowly, she drifted into unconsciousness. Yet her body did not fall, held by the Aquarian technique.

_Anya fell once more into her familiar dream, where she was home. Instead of being in her training clothes, she was armed fully with her Cloth. Her grandmother stared._

_Child, what have you been doing? What adventure is this? You are wearing the armor of a warrior!_

_Yes, Grandmama. I have become a sort of warrior now. I am a Saint._

_I know nothing of Saints, but I want you to be careful. Warriors must risk their lives, and I do not want to see you dead! Death is not your destiny!_

_I will not risk myself unless necessary, Grandmama._

_I would prefer you not risk yourself at all…you are where you belong now, Anya. _

_But…Grandmama!_

_I always knew you would leave home one day. That you would find a new life, even if I was not allowed to know the details. I hope you find wonderful things, Anya. I hope you find happiness, and I hope you find love with your Camus._

_Grandmama…I miss you. I want to see you again!_

_I miss you too, child. But my time has passed, and your time…is just beginning…_

Camus was angry now. "Why did you bring her into this?"

"Because she is part of this, Camus. She is the reason for your inner demons, but she is the also reason for your love and the reason for your ultimate strength. You need a reminder of why you became a Saint! To defend justice, peace, and love!" Camus attacked the older Saint at light speed, but Dègel easily blocked it; he too dominated the Seventh Sense. The younger Aquarius reminded him of himself, after Unity had been killed in front of him by Rhadamanthys. Attacking without focus, however, would not help Camus. He threw his reincarnation across the hall once more with his Diamond Dust Ray; the turquoise-haired Saint's clothing was coated in patches of frost, and he was shivering and breathing puffs of vapor. The younger man cursed not having put on his armor before he'd left his room; _there's little help for that now,_ he thought grimly as he pushed himself up once more, bleeding from a dozen wounds. The powerful freezing attacks were draining his strength and burning his eyes; Dègel was indeed worthy of the Aquarius constellation no less than when he had been when alive.

The seafoam-green haired man suddenly closed his eyes and winced as a spasm ripped through him. "My time is drawing short…Camus! If you feel that this woman is a weakness, then allow me to cut this weakness from your life so you can be strong again!" he roared, clasping his hands high above his head and turning to face Anya. Above him appeared the constellation of Aquarius, bearing a vase filled with golden light. Horror washed through Camus as he realized Dègel was willing to—and going to—kill Anya with Aurora Execution! _She is helpless! She is…going to die at his hands!_

In that seemingly infinite moment, as he realized Anya was going to die and that someone he cared for—loved, even—was about to be sent to Hades, something within Camus snapped. The inner demons were crushed; the voices in his head went silent for good, and an icy determination swirled in his sapphire eyes as he mirrored Dègel's stance with a roar of defiance, cosmos igniting like the sun. He would destroy his Cloth and his incarnation—and in doing so, possibly himself—if it would stop Dègel from killing Anya.

The ancient Aquarius Saint nodded in approval, seeing Camus' sudden focus and control. He'd done it. He'd silenced his inner demons for good. The seafoam-green haired man lowered his arms and quieted his cosmos, confusing Camus; the younger man still held his position, cosmos wrapping him in a golden aura.

"You have passed the test, Camus. You have beaten your inner demons and accepted your path; in your eyes, I see that you will protect the one you love even at the cost of your own existence, and so my mission is accomplished. Lady Athena…thank you…" The last words echoed as if coming from a faraway distance as the ghost of Dègel faded back into the armor; the Aquarius Cloth glowed briefly, then reassembled itself into its neutral form.

As the ancient Saint disappeared, his technique faded with him, and Camus was there with light speed to catch Anya as she fell. "So….cold….." she shivered; Camus realized that Anya was burning her cosmos to try and stay warm, but she was unable to concentrate and her aura flickered as if blown by a sharp wind. The Aquarius Saint held her close, and his cosmos roared like the burning of a fire; the frost melted from his clothes in a steady trickle of water, and color returned to Anya's face. Her cosmos subsided to a dull glow, then disappeared. "Thank you," she said simply when he was done. "Was that…?"

"Yes. That was my incarnation…that was Aquarius Dègel." He realized she'd missed the entire thing, having been knocked out by Dègel's technique; Anya gave him a dubious look, muttering disapprovingly at his wounds. He simply hugged her, glad she was whole and glad she was with him. He released her, laying a hand against her cheek, and looked at her intently. She looked into his luminous eyes, saw something she liked there, and kissed him passionately. He returned her passion, perhaps even exceeding hers, and that was how Hyoga found them as he entered the temple.

"Impressive," Anya whispered as they broke apart. Camus smiled mysteriously.

"The French are masters of many things," he murmured quietly, almost shyly.

The Cygnus Saint cleared his throat, blushing furiously, and two sets of eyes regarded him coolly; Hyoga lowered his eyes under their gaze.

"Athena sent me to tell you that Anya's investiture will be tomorrow at sunrise. She requests your presence, Sensei, along with the other Gold, Silver, and Bronze Saints." He looked down. "I hope I didn't disturb anything," the young man said under his breath, embarrassed. Both older saints shared a quiet smile as they put their heads together briefly, and then they separated.

"No, Hyoga. You didn't interrupt anything. This is not something I would hide from you," Camus told him seriously, releasing Anya and turning to face him.

"But you did, for the longest time—you hid your feelings from me—and from yourself," the blonde man accused. Camus looked guilty—Hyoga had never seen that emotion on his master's face.

"I am sorry for that…I was wrong. Forgive me, Hyoga," the older man murmured softly. For a moment, the Cygnus blinked; he had never heard Camus admit he was wrong!

"Of course I forgive you, Sensei," Hyoga said, wrapping his arms around his master in a warm hug. The older Saint twitched, then relaxed; he wasn't accustomed to such things yet.

Anya headed back for her rooms while the men were talking. She needed to relax, shower, and recover from her journey. It wouldn't do to show weakness in front of the other Saints at the ceremony. As she entered her room, she noticed something glittering on her pillow. After probing with her cosmos, she looked closer; it was two somethings—a small detailed sculpture of a gyrfalcon, and a cunningly crafted snowflake on a silver chain. Both felt cold to the touch as she picked them up, and yet neither melted as she breathed on them experimentally. She knew these were crafted by masters of ice, and she had a good idea who those masters were. A note on her side table explained.

_I made the gyrfalcon while we were in Siberia. One landed in the cave, so I had a good long look at it. Camus-sensei made the snowflake—something about you reminding him of home. He asked Mu-sama to make the chain, since ice isn't good for such things._

_ -Hyoga_

Anya smiled, a single grateful tear running down her cheek. She had a new family, now. Her grandmama would be proud. Clasping the necklace around her neck, she placed the ice gyrfalcon in a prized place on her side table, then went about the mundane tasks she'd left behind while gone. The necklace never left her as long as she lived.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Ceremony**

The next morning dawned in a sea of glittering Cloths that sparkled and shone in the sunlight. The field was arranged by designation; Bronze Saints in the back, Silver Saints in the middle, and the twelve elite Gold Saints in the front. Other dignitaries—those who were not Saints, and Kiki—stood to either side of Athena's chair. Athena rose, carrying her nike staff, and the chattering among the field participants ceased immediately. They arranged themselves and stood at attention, like a mystical army. The goddess smiled, and her quiet voice carried across the field.

"Sacred Saints! My friends! Today we are gathered to celebrate a wondrous occasion. One of the Four Hidden Cloths has been found. It is hidden no longer!"

The Bronze Saints cheered; the Silver Saints smiled and nodded in jubilation, and the Gold Saints merely looked on curiously. Most of them hadn't heard the news yet.

"I present to you…Gyrfalcon Anya, bearer of one of the Four Hidden Cloths. Gyrfalcon is one of the constellations contained within Aquarius." Quite a few glances were directed at Camus when Aquarius was mentioned, but he remained impassive and stoic. He was representing the Gold Saints and had to exemplify the dignity and elegance of his position as an example for the younger Saints. It was a duty he took very seriously. However, pleasure shone in his eyes when Anya stepped out from behind Athena's throne, armor shining brightly. A sense of pride filled him, and he struggled not to smile.

Anya looked out over the field; so many Saints! They were all cheering for her. She felt proud of her accomplishment, and her cosmos burst into a corona around her. Athena raised her staff, which glowed briefly hotter than the sun, getting everyone's attention once more.

"Anya has been chosen by the Gyrfalcon constellation and will bear its Cloth for the rest of her days; she will serve in the pantheon as a Silver Saint." The goddess smiled kindly.

"This is a time for celebration! Another Saint has joined you; I bid you welcome her as a sister-in-arms, and embrace her as a fellow Saint." Cheering began again, and Athena gestured to the tables on the sides of the field. "Please, eat and drink, and be merry for the day. No missions will be assigned today, and training is suspended until tomorrow."

It was rather amusing to see Shura using Excalibur to cut cake, but the Capricorn's finesse of control was astonishing; the Bronze Saints were suitably impressed. Mu had built the tables and chairs, as the resident smith of the Saints, along with Aldebaran's help. The Taurus Saint's strength was very helpful at times when it came to building furniture. Shaka had spoken the benediction at the beginning of the ceremony, as the holiest man among them, and most of the other Saints had helped with the decorations and setup for the games that would be presented later. Deathmask, of course, looked miserable, until he was informed that there would be exhibitions by the Saints later. That cheered him up; he loved showing off his powers and exposing the younger generation to the macabre.

Camus was standing near one of the groves of trees with Hyoga, the two of them speaking quietly, when Milo found them.

"She finally succeeded in melting your frozen heart, didn't she," the Scorpio Saint teased, smirking at his best friend. He suddenly yelped as a wave of bitter freezing cold swept through him, and the golden glow around Camus dissipated as fast as it had appeared; the turquoise-haired man raised an eyebrow, sliding Milo a sideways glance, and Hyoga saw a faint smile playing about his master's lips. The Cygnus Saint giggled; the older men were acting like boys. Milo shivered, chuckling. "Okay, okay, I give. You're still the master of everything frozen."

Mu came over to them, pulling Camus aside while the Scorpio and Cygnus Saints joked around. "I am happy for you, Camus. It appears you have solved your problem." The Aquarius Saint met his eyes and nodded affirmatively.

"I had some help," he said modestly. "Thank you for that."

Mu smiled. "Next time, we can share iced tea together."

Camus looked embarrassed. "I…apologize." That made the Aries Saint chuckle merrily, and shortly after, Camus joined in.

Anya watched her former master shyly chuckling and having a good time with his brethren; she knew he wasn't accustomed to large gatherings like this, but she was glad he found time to relax. She liked him best when he was smiling, rare as it was. It was like the sun coming out on the icy plains of Siberia. She walked over to Shaka, who was watching the gathering from another corner of the field.

"Thank you, Shaka-sama. For not revealing me that day."

"It would not have served the situation for me to do so." His tone was serious, but the Virgo Saint was smiling a little as he spoke it.

"Do you think…do you think we can be happy?" Shaka gracefully sat.

"Happiness is transient; Buddha teaches that we must be free from all distractions and temptations on earth, and that includes strong emotion—we seek inner peace. However…we are human," he said ruefully, opening his eyes fully to look at the crowd. A few Saints shouted and ducked at that, fearing the wrath of the golden-haired man, but no attack came, and the others relaxed after a few suspicious glances in the two Saints' direction. "And in being human, we seek a fulfilling existence. I think you two will find a fulfilling existence." That was good enough for Anya. She thanked the Virgo Saint, but he'd already started meditating, levitating about a foot off of the ground. Some of the newest Bronze Saints who hadn't been exposed to Shaka's talents were shocked to see this, and their jaws dropped as they watched him serenely floating in mid-air.

The exhibition games began. Bronze, Silver, and Gold Saints paired off to demonstrate their prowess in a non-lethal fashion. The Gold Saints had to pair with each other, because their attacks would damage any lesser armor. Seiya demanded to go first, and Athena laughingly agreed; he chose Shiryu as his opponent. The Dragon Saint grinned and stepped into the roped off area for the exhibition. Afterward, Shun took on Hyoga, and Camus was pleased to see his student win that match. Ikki, of course, was one of those people for whom his Cloth did not measure his power; he needed a stronger opponent, and Athena asked if Anya would graciously step in. The girl nodded, and the field went nearly silent as everyone watched the newest Saint enter the ring in her glimmering armor. She stood in the center of the ring, and closed her eyes.

"Attack me from any point," she instructed Ikki, who had initially scoffed and turned his back on her. The Phoenix grinned and obliged, fists glowing with red fire. He moved fast—very fast—but she saw every movement as if it were in slow motion; she didn't know it, but faint sapphire flares streaked through her cosmos. She lifted a finger for Ice Wall against his HouYoku Tensho, then bound him with her other hand holding a Crystalline Whip. Low murmurs spread across the field; no one had ever seen a Saint using two different techniques simultaneously before. The fires of Ikki's cosmos rose to frightening levels, charring the ropes that designated the area, but Anya's ice did not melt under the assault; her technique was sound. Camus watched intently, hiding his shock at what had happened; he knew Anya was nowhere near her limit, and yet those divine bolts of energy had appeared. After a smattering of applause, she released Ikki and left the exhibition area. Almost immediately, she was bombarded by younger Saints asking her to teach them the ways of using two different techniques at once. A little overwhelmed, she tried to brush them away, but many of them hadn't learned restraint yet; the Gyrfalcon Saint was rescued by Camus, who approached with cosmos blazing.

"Leave her alone for now; this is a day to celebrate, not to train," he spoke commandingly, small flakes of snow whirling around him, and the younger Saints quickly backed off. No one questioned a Gold Saint, especially the one known as the Wizard of Ice and Water.

"Congratulations," he said simply, gazing at her. She ducked her head.

"Thank you."

"I am proud of you," he whispered in her ear. "And…I hope to bring you the same feelings you have brought me." Anya blushed a pale pink. "But…Anya…those flares…we will need to investigate what happened." She nodded.

"Continue with the exhibitions!" the goddess commanded, raising her staff. _Go, _she spoke directly into the minds of the two companions. The two of them excused themselves from the field and went to be alone in the surrounding forests for a time; Hyoga and Milo watched them go and shared a saucy grin.

-fin-


	12. Chapter 12

Hi everyone!

Thanks for the reviews and favorites thus far. I'm very flattered by the attention.

This is the first story in a long series of stories; I have been attempting to re-edit Book 2 in the series, but I'm still kind of unhappy with it, so I will skip to Book 3 for now. (I already have Books 4-5 written, just needs editing.)

Keep reading and reviewing!

-AquarianDegel


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